


Trying Not to Blow It

by linefaced



Category: Persona 4
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:45:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5399978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linefaced/pseuds/linefaced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you even ask your boyfriend if you can come on his face?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trying Not to Blow It

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting in my fic draft folder for literal years, I figured it was about time to, erm. Finish it off, so to speak.

Yosuke really wants to come on Souji's face.

It's one of those thoughts that crossed his mind and he immediately tried to forget, but like most ideas that one actively tries not to think about, the mental image stayed with him for days, then weeks. He's to the point now where he's thinking about it almost every single time he talks to Souji, which, given that they share an apartment, is _too goddamn often._

On reflection, his obsession is probably a result of Too Much Porn, even if it's embarrassing to admit. It's not like he's watching it as much, since having an actual, physical person to take out sexual frustration on is much better than sitting alone in a darkened room with a glowing computer screen and a box of tissues. Souji might have days where he somehow manages to be even less talkative than Yosuke's right hand, but he's still much better company, and after their initial awkwardness about getting physical, he got really, _really_ good at giving Yosuke head. He's always been observant and a quick learner, the combination of which lead to him picking up on Yosuke's reactions to different things: which muscles tensed when he was doing well, and what meant he should slow down or speed up. Yosuke, in comparison, was almost comically bad at returning the favor, but Souji seemed to appreciate whatever efforts he expended anyway, and if it just wasn't working out, he'd happily settle for a quick handjob.

But they were busy with university classes and slightly differing schedules, and as appealing as the idea of having Souji's talented mouth on his dick more often sounded, it just wasn't feasible. So Yosuke took to idly glancing back at his old porn collection when he was alone and horny, even if having actual experience to compare it to lowered its appeal considerably. The girls in porn always acted like having come on their face was the best thing ever, and Yosuke wasn't stupid enough to believe that was anything but an act. But the second his brain replaced Souji with the short-haired girl in one particular video, he couldn't seem to pry his mind away from the idea. That day, Yosuke had closed his eyes and touched himself to the mental image of Souji's pale face splattered with his come, his lips parted, still red and swollen from having been around his cock just seconds before. In retrospect, the idea of Souji—cool, calm, collected Souji—sitting there with his eyes closed and his mouth open like he was in a porno was completely ridiculous, but in the heat of the moment Yosuke would have been hard pressed to think of anything else he'd rather look at.

That particular fantasy's been causing him some amount of agony. Yosuke's long settled into himself and the idea of being with Souji, resulting from a combination of his now-boyfriend's impossibly effective ability to soothe his anxieties, and that the world did not, in fact, end horrifically after their first date. But no matter how settled he is, there is literally _no way_ he can imagine ever asking Souji if he can come on his face.

 _How would you even go about asking that? Is there even a way to do it?!_ Yosuke thinks desperately, fidgeting in his chair at his desk. _“Hey partner, I wanted to try something new, would you mind if I just jizz all over your face the next time you blow me?”_ The idea nearly makes him laugh aloud; it would have been funnier if he hadn't been obsessed with the idea for 17 days and counting. He can't just go ahead and do it without asking, either, because Souji would kill him, or worse, be disappointed in him. Yosuke can picture the scornful look he'd be given after Souji wiped his face clean, and it strikes enough fear in his heart that even if there had been the slightest possibility of him following through on that plan, it's gone in half a second.

He continues to sit and wrack his brain for some way of trying to bring this up, but the only thing his mind contributes is taking the image of Souji's come-covered face and adding his TV world glasses to it. Not only is it completely unhelpful, but it adds the problem of an unexpected boner to Yosuke's steadily growing pile of issues.

“C'mon,” he grumbles in the direction of his crotch, “can we just forget about this, already?”

“Forget about what?” Souji asks from just behind him, and Yosuke jolts so hard he cracks the top of his head into Souji's chin. Souji yelps, and Yosuke whirls around in the swivel chair, apologies tumbling out of his mouth.

“Partner! Oh man, don't sneak up on me like that, I'm so sorry, I didn't even know you were—”

“Yosuke,” Souji interrupts, “it's fine. _I'm_ fine. Calm down.” His voice is soothing as always, and Yosuke relaxes, but tenses again right away as Souji's eyes drift down.

“Problem?” He asks, smirking a bit and stepping closer. Yosuke cringes, pulling his knees up to his chest and shoving his hands between them to try and cover himself.

“Wh-What? No, uh, it's... It's fine, you don't... have to...”

He doesn't get a chance to finish, because Souji's hands are on his knees, prying them apart and down, and Souji's sinking down in front of him—a sight that Yosuke will _never_ be used to—and there are hands on his pants and how the _hell_ did Souji get so quick at undoing his jeans button?! But before Yosuke knows it, Souji's head is in his lap, and after one deep breath he slides all the way down until his nose is practically buried in Yosuke's pubic hair.

“ _Fuck_ , Souji...” Yosuke swears, his hand immediately tangling in the hair on the back of Souji's head. Souji's mouth and throat are hot and soft, and the light suction he's applying is enough to make Yosuke feel like he's going to go crazy. His hips twitch once despite his best attempts to hold them still; Souji might be great at this but Yosuke's almost gagged him a handful of times, and that was a mood-killer like nothing else. Yosuke can practically see the headline now: “Man Chokes and Dies on Boyfriend's Dick”, and that alone is enough to keep him from pushing it.

“Mm,” Souji moans around him, and Yosuke shudders despite himself, wondering how in the world Souji makes cocksucking look so damn _good_. He occasionally glances up and makes eye contact with Yosuke, and Yosuke practically comes just from the sight of it. Souji, fearless leader Souji, with his cheeks pink and hollow and his mouth full, kneeling in front of him, sucking _him_ off—him! Yosuke Hanamura, the Prince of Disa-fucking-ppointment—like it's the best thing he's ever done.

Souji slides a hand down between his own legs and begins to rub himself through his own slacks, and Yosuke swallows hard. He watches him for a minute or so, watches Souji shiver and practically melt as he starts to touch himself, but then he gets an idea and slides his leg forward.

“N-Need some help there, Partner?” He asks, his voice shaky, but he moves his leg between Souji's thighs and presses it against his groin. Souji gasps, pulling off Yosuke's dick long enough to grind into the crook between his leg and his foot, panting and shaking before he dives back down to take Yosuke's dick back into his mouth again. He's shakier this time, continuing to thrust against the front of Yosuke's leg like a dog in heat, making hungry little noises around Yosuke's cock from the friction. Yosuke can barely look at him, and doesn't complain even when Souji's teeth lightly graze him here and there, because the combination of his knitted eyebrows and the darkening flush on his face is more than enough to make up for his sudden loss of skill.

God, though, he's _close_ , and Souji keeps having to pull away to moan and suck in a few breaths to steady himself, and Yosuke is milliseconds away from coming if Souji would just _stay there_ for just a little longer.

“Souji,” Yosuke groans, his fingers tightening in Souji's hair, “Souji, _please_ , c'mon...” Luckily for him, Souji seems to get the message, and after a few more desperate lungfuls of air, he ducks his head again, bobbing up and down as he sucks up and down the length of Yosuke's cock.

It practically happens all at once. Yosuke, having been held on the edge of orgasm for several minutes, jolts his leg, grinding it particularly hard into Souji's crotch. Souji, despite trying to concentrate on his task, cries out, although his feeble attempt to keep Yosuke's dick in his mouth ends with its head sliding out from between his lips with a comically obscene “pop”, and the sensation—which, notably, is not entirely unlike pulling out of Souji's other end after sex—is enough to finish Yosuke off. He comes hard and with a strangled gasp, his hips arching off the chair. Caught up in his orgasm, Yosuke doesn't notice what's happened at first, but Souji's surprised yelp alerts him to a problem, and he sits up in a hurry, his eyes wide.

“Whoa, Partner, are you okay?!” He asks, unsure if he'd accidentally kicked him too hard or something, but his voice dies at the sight before him.

Souji is kneeling in front of him, his shoulders heaving as he pants and his hips still twitching against his leg, a small splatter of Yosuke's come across his face. There's some up near his right eye, which he's closed defensively, and a trail of it down his cheek, ending with another smatter of it near the corner of his slightly parted lips.

Yosuke _stares._

The image burns itself steadily into his brain, but then the reality of the situation hits him like a sack of bricks. He just _came on Souji's face_. It wasn't just any face, it was _Souji's_ face. Without asking, without even warning him. He just...

Yosuke jolts upright, reaching quickly for a box of tissues. “Oh god, Souji, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—”

He almost misses it in his panic, but Souji starts to laugh, very softly, under his breath. Yosuke stops with the tissue box in one hand, staring at his partner for a different reason this time. Souji snickers, looking up at him with his one still-open eye and smirking at him knowingly.

“You fucking _pervert_ ,” he says, but his tone is warm and amused, and not at all angry or disappointed or even slightly irritated. Souji stands up, swiping at the splatter over his eye, and locking gazes with Yosuke as he licks it off his knuckle. Yosuke swallows.

“I didn't...” he begins feebly, “I didn't do it on purpose!”

“Mm,” Souji hums disbelievingly, but he still doesn't look angry. He licks the corner of his mouth next, and Yosuke, despite wanting to defend himself, can't take his eyes off his face. Souji watches him carefully, and then drops his gaze to Yosuke's groin again.

“Haven't had enough yet, huh?” He asks, and Yosuke belatedly realizes he's already half-hard again. “Well,” Souji continues, gesturing toward his own crotch, “you owe me now, anyway.”

“Y-Yes, sir!” Yosuke yelps, scrambling to his feet and following Souji to their bedroom.

* * *

Souji's back hits the bed after they're finished, his skin slicked with a thin layer of sweat and his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. His stomach is splattered with his own come this time, and his legs are still spread and shaking ever so slightly. He groans as Yosuke pulls out of him, and Yosuke, exhausted, loses his grip on the end of the condom as he slides out, spilling some of it on the bed right between Souji's legs. Souji doesn't really seem to notice, and cranes his head up to look at him, his cheeks flushed, lips parted, clearly sated and content in the haze of his afterglow.

Yosuke tries not to stare, and pretends desperately like the sight of _that_ isn't going to cause him a whole _new_ set of problems for weeks to come.

 


End file.
